


A Matter of Trust

by the_technicolor_whiscash



Category: Burn Notice
Genre: Cuddling, Kissing, M/M, Napping, Right after Larry appears for the first time, eating Chinese food, sometime in season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 04:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17237603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_technicolor_whiscash/pseuds/the_technicolor_whiscash
Summary: Michael is fairly wound-up after discovering that Larry is in fact not dead. Sam decides to help him cope.





	A Matter of Trust

**Author's Note:**

> I just restarted watching burn notice and damnit if I’m not going to drag this ship back up from the ground then no one else is

Michael felt like shit. Both physically, because he had gotten the crap kicked out of him, and emotionally, because of his breakup with Fi. Not like they were anything in the first place. But it didn’t really help his state of mind. And, what with Larry back in town and certainly not dead, there weren’t many things going right in his life. 

He gritted his teeth when Sam entered the loft. Really, what he wanted to do was to lay in bed for the next 15 hours alone in the dark. But that probably wasn’t going to be happening, since Sam pretty much lived there now. Michael was more than happy to accommodate him on most days, but on days like this, he really wished he were still living alone. 

“Hiya, Mikey.” Sam said, cradling a six pack like a baby. “How’s it going?”

“Oh, not bad.” Michael lied. 

“Still thinking about Larry?”

“Yeah. I should’ve killed the bastard when I had the chance.”

“You probably should have.” Sam popped the top off of a beer and sat down beside Mike at the table. “But you didn’t.”

“Maybe I’m a coward. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t pull the trigger.”

“Nah, it’s not that. You’re a better man than Larry. Way better.”

“I think roadkill is a better person than Larry.”

“You’re probably right. He is one big piece of shit. And you’ll be better off once you finally scrape him off the bottom of your shoe.”

“Wonder when that’s gonna be.”

“The bastard’s gonna end up saying the wrong thing to the wrong guy and get himself killed anyway. He talks a lot of smack.”

“Yeah, smack he can back up. I once saw him kill a man with a two inch screw and a sprig of holly.” Michael pressed the bridge of his nose, attempting to fight his oncoming headache. “I wish I weren’t trapped here. If I could just get out, get to literally anywhere else, I would worry about it less.”

“It sucks, I won’t deny it. But you’ve just gotta play with the cards you’ve been handed.” By this point, Sam was already halfway done with the beer. “Even if the cards suck. Hey, at least you’ve got me and Fi.”

“Barely. I’ve got a feeling Fi doesn’t really like working with me anymore after our recent breakup.”

“I don’t know, she usually comes around. Just use that, ah, animal magnetism of yours.”

“Have you seen that new boyfriend of hers?”

Sam chuckled. “Yeah, he’s way too normal for her. Probably likes to do everything legally with as few explosions as possible. It won’t last, if I know Fi at all.”

“She might surprise you.” She sure had surprised Michael in the past. He stood, cracking his back. “I wish I had something to do, but until Carla calls or someone needs a job done, I’m pretty much stuck.”

“That means you can relax. Take a load off. Or have you never heard of the concept?”

“It’s not really in the job description.” He pulled out his phone and clicked through his contacts. “Maybe I’ll call my mom, see if she needs anything done.”

“No. Dude.” Sam took Michael’s phone, closed it, and put it back in his hand. “You’re gonna chill out for like, 45 minutes. Learn to relax a little.” 

“It doesn’t really sound like relaxing if you’re forcing me to do it.”

“It’s not forcing, necessarily. Well, it might be, but I wouldn’t use those words.”

“If I get a call, can I leave?”

Sam nodded. “Fine. If you get a call for something more important, you can leave. But it has to be more important than forced relaxation.”

“What falls under those parameters?”

“We’ll find out, won’t we?”

Michael flopped into bed and shoved his phone under the pillow. He supposed relaxing would probably involve napping, and it would be a good way to kill time. However, there was something bothering him that prevented him from napping. Sam, still sitting at the barstool, still drinking his beer. 

“Can you do something other than sit there? It’s weird.” 

“Sure, Mikey.” Sam left the beer on the counter and, after a moment’s contemplation, laid down in bed beside Michael. “Gee, this is a pretty nice mattress, even if it is flat on the floor.”

Michael decided not to ask questions and focus on trying to nap. Oddly enough, it was easier now, with the comforting sound of Sam’s breathing right beside him. It wasn’t the first time they had shared close quarters, and certainly wasn’t the first time he had slept in bed with another man. But that wasn’t what this was about. This had nothing to do with them sleeping together. This was forced relaxation, that was beginning to make Michael more tense than he was before. 

And that was when he felt the hand on his chest, and a large form curled up against his side. Sam was now clutching him like an oversized, muscular teddy bear. It was a little warm to be doing that in the heat of a Miami summer, but he didn’t feel the need to shoo him away. It was kind of nice, to have someone curled up against him. Ever since he and Fi broke up, he had been sleeping alone, and it does make a guy crave physical contact. And he could do worse than Sam. A lot worse. 

Within a few minutes, Michael was sound asleep. He didn’t know how long he had been asleep for, but when he awoke, it was dark out, and Sam was still holding him. Sometime during this extended nap, Michael must’ve grabbed a hold of Sam too, and he was now buried in the other man’s shockingly muscular chest. You wouldn’t expect it by looking at him, but Sam was jacked. 

He should’ve gotten up. He should’ve checked his phone, called his mother, and made sure everything was still rock solid. But he didn’t. There were so many things he had to do, but all he wanted to do was stay curled up against Sam. That wasn’t weird, right? Sam was the one who established this whole thing, so he wouldn’t mind if Michael continued to lay against him. Right? He just missed human contact, a lot. And it wasn’t that Sam was a replacement for Fi. Sam was a lot bigger than Fi, and gave off a lot more heat. He was like an electric blanket, or a personal space heater. And it felt nice, to have Sam wrapped around him, a different nice from the way Fi was. A different sort of comfort. One that smelled a little like beer and being out in the sun. 

Michael sighed. He knew he would have to check his phone eventually. So he rolled over, in a way he hoped wouldn’t wake Sam, and checked his phone. There was one message from Fi, talking about some new explosives she gleaned that might be of some use. One from his mom, asking if he wanted dinner. Well, it was about 10:30 at night, so it was probably too late for that. Thankfully, his handlers hadn’t called, so there wasn’t anything to worry about. 

“Mmph.” Groaned Sam. Clearly Michael’s attempts to not wake him had failed. “What time is it?”

“Late.”

“Aw, hell, my sleep schedule’s gonna be all messed up.”

“It’s your own fault. You insisted on forced relaxation.” 

“I know, I know.”

Michael sat up, rubbing his eyes. “You told me it was only gonna take 45 minutes.”

“My fault too, for not setting a timer.” Sam checked his watch, dropping his arm back onto the bed. “We can never talk about this again, if you don’t want to.”

“It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Don’t lie. I know everything matters to you.”

Michael felt his mouth go dry. Having to own up to his feelings? That wasn’t something he enjoyed or anticipated. “It was nice. You’re warm.”

“So they tell me.” Sam sat up and slid his legs off the bed. “Well, I’ll retreat to my couch.”

“Wait, Sam. Are you in the mood for Chinese?”

“Hell yeah.”

“I’ll call some in for delivery. I don’t really feel like driving to pick it up at 10:30 at night.”

“Not worried the Chinese place will know your address?”

“Well, I’ll pay in cash and give em a fake name.”

“Works for me.”

45 minutes later, they sat on the barstools eating a pupu platter for 2 out of the box. It was greasy as all hell, but at least it was something. Better than getting Dominoes. 

“So, Mikey,” Sam said, polishing off another chicken finger, “feel more relaxed?”

Michael nodded. “Oddly enough, I do. Though next time, just ask if you want to cuddle. I will say yes.”

A sad smile crossed Sam’s face. “Thanks, man. Ever since I broke it off with Veronica, it’s been hard, you know?”

“I know exactly what you mean.”

For a moment, Michael looked at Sam. Really looked. And realized that throughout thick and thin, Sam had always been there. He had never had to worry about whether or not Sam would be willing to help, because he always would. Sam was his rock, his most reliable of friends. And he appreciated that, in more ways than Sam knew. 

Before he knew it, his lips were against Sam’s. And Sam wasn’t pushing him away. God, it felt good to kiss another human being. To really kiss someone, deeply, with a tongue he knew he could do horrible things with. And it was nice. 

“Mikey.” Sam breathed, when they broke apart. “As much as I’m loving the enthusiasm, where is this coming from?”

Michael tried to steady his heavy breaths. “I’m tired, and horny, and you’re the one person on earth I can trust with my life.” He grabbed Sam’s head. “I love you.” And he kissed Sam again, a little more sloppily this time. He was just so damn tired of not being able to trust people, and damn if he couldn’t trust Sam.

**Author's Note:**

> Please. I am begging for content. The most recent thing posted in this ship before this is something I myself wrote a year and a half ago.


End file.
